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Gremmosh/Monks and the Spirit of the Wilds
Lok’tar, brothers and sisters. I am Gremmosh, soldier of the Horde, hunter, marksman, and child of the wilds. I have always respected the elements, always paid my due to them before battle. But none called to me as much as the elusive Spirit of the Wilds, which even the most seasoned shamans, had difficulty calling upon. Often I have thought of following the steps of the shaman, putting down my bow and axe to live a life of servitude to the elemental spirits. But I feel no dedication to fire, earth, water or air. Only the Wilds call to me… Recently, I have found myself enamored with the monks of Pandaria. I admit, during the campaign through the noble lands of the Pandaren, I paid no heed to the mysticism of the Pandaren, and I often derided their delusions of “power from within,” and “balance” as little more as the babbling of some peace-loving peons, ready to be conquered. Though laid up with Karasarang fever for most of the campaign, and tended to by Pandaren healers, I little thought well of them. I would often ignore the monks in my presence, and found them to be just another face in battle. But I found myself on the front lines recently, as I often do, in the battlefield of Ashran. We had pushed forward and we’re taking on the Alliance forces at the Crossroads. As a put an arrow in to the last human knight of Stormwind, to my left I noticed a blood elf woman, channeling some mysterious mists into a statue of the Jade Serpent, Yu’lon. Never before had I cared about what the monks could do, but for some reason, in this moment, I stared in awe and admiration at the monk, as she remained focused and determined to whatever she was doing. Suddenly, I had felt a renewed fighting spirit! We had been in battle for hours, and we were growing tired. But now I was ready to fight again, as if I had just come to battle from a long peace! We pushed on and made it to the archmage’s overlook before I took my leave for the day and returned to Warspear. But the image of that monk would not leave my mind. For days I pondered what I saw; why did this image stick with me so much? What were those mists that the monk had control over? Why did I suddenly feel such strong respect for the Pandaren, where before there was none? I needed to find out, so I took a leave of absence from the front lines, and traveled back to Pandaria. The portal in Orgrimmar dropped me off in the Jade Forest, at Honeydew Village. There was a light rain falling, and the crisp air undergoing revitalization filled my lungs with vigor. But how to start on this answer-seeking voyage? I went to the inn and asked the innkeeper where I could find the monks. He laughed and told me that they were all around me. I should have driven my axe into his bar for that impudence, but for some reason, this time I was calm and understanding. I knew what he meant; the spirits were all around us. I laughed with him, and he gave me a beer. We had a long talk of where the monks trained, and the different disciplines that they trained in. For a simple barkeep, he was quite knowledgeable. I made my way from Honeydew to the Tian Monastery; a place I had visited not long ago when we brought our war to Pandaria. I watched the monks train, but I did not feel drawn to these monks like I had before. I moved on, trying to remember the lay of the land and the paths I took not long ago. I found myself at a crossroads, and noticed a path I had not noticed before. I looked at the sign-less crossroad before me and felt it; that feeling I had before. I made the turn down the path I had not taken last time I was here, and followed up a long road. Curing up a spire of rock, crossing over a massive bridge; it was a long, arduous trek. But there, before me stood the temple that appears on no map, the temple that the monks kindly asked I would not reveal the name or location of, out of concern for their privacy. When I reached the gates I was greeted by a monk who seemed to be expecting me. The kind old man welcomed me to the hidden temple, and escorted me to the local master. In the courtyard I saw them; monks weaving mists like the elf in Ashran did, dancing around statues to Yu’lon. This is what I was looking for; this was the power of the monks that called to me! I entered the main temple building, where a group of monks were finishing their practice. The master welcomed me in, and offered me tea as we sat and spoke. She told me that this was a temple dedicated to the way of the Mistweaver, a sub-discipline of the monks. I asked many questions, and the kind Master answered many before asking me why I had truly come to their temple. I told her the same story I tell you now, of witnessing the monk on the battlefield, and suddenly feeling drawn to their ways. She smiled and nodded, and asked me, “Do you wish to learn our ways?” I hesitated. "In time, I am sure. But not at this moment." The wise master smiled at me again. "Very well, young orc. In time, I see it too." I was escorted to the courtyard again, where I was welcome to watch the monks in practice. * * * * * * * I know now that in time, I will begin training, but I now know why I felt so drawn to the Mistweaver monks. The Spirit of the Wilds called me here; the monks speak with the wilds. The energy that the monks use comes from within, the spirit inside all living mortals. The monks call this energy “chi,” but there is no doubt in my mind that it IS the Spirit of the Wilds, that permeates all living things. For centuries shamans have tried to unlock the secrets to the Wilds, and for centuries the monks of Pandaria have held it, have walked with the wilds. In time, this is the path I will be called to; now I would stalk the wilds, hunting down man and beast alike with respect only for nature and the thrill of the hunt. Soon I will go out and stalk my prey, seeing the Spirit of the Wilds in all things. When I slay my foe, I will see the Wilds leave them, and I will respect life and death then more than ever. When I am trained enough, I will join the Shado-Pan and defend Pandaria from its enemies. If I grow old and do not die in battle, I shall retire to this land and live out the remainder of my days teaching the ways of the Wilds, to all who would seeks it’s wisdom. The hunter-monk; that is what I shall be, and I have felt never closer to the Wilds than I do now. Category:Stories